It all started with an idea.

A small, innocent idea.

"Let's throw K hyung a surprise birthday party," EJ said one fateful afternoon, arms crossed like a general preparing for war.

It was quiet for exactly five seconds before everything spiraled into madness.

"Can we get fireworks?" Taki asked, eyes gleaming with dangerous enthusiasm.

"No," EJ said immediately.

"Indoor fireworks?"

"Still no."

Harua looked up from his phone, deadpan. "We could do confetti cannons. Pinterest says it adds flair."

"Flair?" EJ repeated flatly. "We're celebrating a human being, not launching a parade."

Nicholas leaned against the kitchen counter, grinning. "Come on, EJ. Let them have their fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

Fuma turned to him. "Every time someone says that around you, something does happen."

Nicholas raised his hands defensively. "This time will be different!"

It was not

11:30 PM — T-MINUS 30 MINUTES TO CHAOS

The dorm was a battlefield. Balloons floated half-deflated, streamers hung at odd angles, and the smell of burnt frosting lingered ominously in the air.

"Who left the oven on?!" Yuma yelled, rushing past with oven mitts and a slightly charred cake.

Nicholas coughed dramatically. "It adds a smoky flavor."

"IT'S ON FIRE!"

"Flambé?"

EJ groaned. "Nicholas, please stop talking before I medically sedate you."

Meanwhile, Taki and Harua were hanging a "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banner that had somehow become "HAP BIRTH."

"It's missing letters!" Harua complained, holding up the limp paper.

"That's all they had left at the store!" Taki defended. "Besides, it's minimalist."

"Minimal effort, maybe."

"Guys!" Maki called from the other room. "He's texting! He's on his way back from practice!"

Panic swept through the dorm. Everyone froze mid-motion.

"Okay," EJ said, clapping once. "We have thirty minutes. Decorations up, lights off, everyone in position. Nicholas—help Yuma fix that cake before it collapses."

Nicholas saluted. "Aye, captain!"

Within five minutes, flour covered half the kitchen, frosting coated Nicholas's hands, and Yuma was muttering under his breath in a mix of Japanese and despair.

"Stop licking the frosting!"

"I'm tasting quality control!"

11:55 PM — FIVE MINUTES TO DOOM

Somehow, miraculously, the cake was standing—slightly crooked, but upright. Balloons floated precariously near the ceiling. The lights were dimmed, candles were ready, and everyone was hidden. Sort of.

Jo was crouched behind the couch, trying to stifle his laughter. Harua and Taki were squeezed behind the curtains. Maki was in the hallway pretending to "guard the perimeter."

Nicholas and Fuma were whispering near the counter, debating whether the cake was edible.

"It's fine," Nicholas said confidently. "Cake's cake."

"It's leaning like it's trying to escape."

"Adds character."

Then, tragedy struck.

Harua sneezed. Loudly.

Everyone froze.

EJ glared at him through the dark. "Seriously?"

"It's the dust!" Harua whispered defensively.

Before EJ could respond, the front door handle rattled.

"Oh no," Maki whispered. "He's here."

MIDNIGHT — THE GRAND DISASTER

The door swung open.

K stepped inside, hair damp from practice, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "Why are the lights off? Did the power—"

"SURPRI—!"

Half the group jumped out too early, the other half too late.

The confetti cannon went off directly in K's face.

POOF.

A glitter explosion engulfed the room.

Taki screamed. Nicholas dropped the cake. EJ screamed. Jo screamed because EJ screamed.

"WHAT JUST—" K blinked through the glitter storm, face covered in rainbow sparkles.

"Surprise?" Nicholas offered weakly.

The cake hit the floor with a sad, wet plop.

Fuma buried his face in his hands. "We rehearsed this..."

EJ was shaking his head, whispering, "I told them no fireworks, I told them—"

Harua, ever calm, muttered, "At least it's memorable."

K stood there silently, completely still, confetti stuck in his hair. Then, to everyone's shock—he started laughing.

Not a small laugh. A full, bright, unrestrained laugh that filled the room.

"Oh my god," he wheezed between chuckles. "You guys are unbelievable."

Nicholas grinned, shoulders shaking with laughter too. "Happy birthday, hyung. Hope you like glitter!"

EJ sighed, covering his face. "This is not how professionals celebrate birthdays."

"It's how friends do," Taki said proudly, blowing a party whistle.

The sound was off-key. The whistle broke mid-note. That made everyone laugh even harder.

LATER THAT NIGHT — 1:12 AM

Once the laughter died down (and the glitter settled), they sat together in the chaos they'd created.

K was on the couch, wearing a paper crown Taki made from wrapping paper. Nicholas was sprawled on the floor eating cake crumbs directly from the plate.

EJ sat beside K, half-asleep, mumbling something about "next time, we're ordering from a bakery."

Maki played soft music from his phone while Harua and Yuma cleaned frosting off the wall.

K looked around at them—his team, his family—and smiled quietly.

"This is the worst surprise party I've ever had," he said.

"Rude!" Nicholas threw a sprinkle at him.

K chuckled, leaning back. "But... probably the best one, too."

Taki yawned, curling up beside Harua. "Told you the confetti was a good idea."

Harua deadpanned. "You nearly blinded him."

"Worth it."

The room filled with another wave of laughter.

EJ glanced up, a tired smile softening his face. "Next year, we'll do it right."

K looked at him, eyes twinkling. "Next year, we'll do it together."

Nicholas smirked. "As long as there's cake, I'm in."

"Not if you're baking it," Yuma muttered.

"Hey!"

Their laughter echoed into the early morning—messy, warm, unfiltered joy.

And somewhere between the frosting stains, the deflated balloons, and the glitter that would never come off the floor, K realized this was exactly what birthdays were meant to feel like.

Not perfect. Not fancy.

Just theirs.